


ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Crime Fighting, Crushes, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, F/M, Fights, M/M, Secret Identity, Superheroes, Superpowers, this one is like not so prominent tho lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10408845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It all started on the ice.Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but it was close enough. Where it had really started was in Minako’s ballet studio, but where Yuuri had truly felt a pull, a strong attraction to his superpower for the first time had been on the ice.And so, while raising his leg into a clumsy arabesque, begins his journey.--HIATUS--





	1. sometimes

 

It all started on the ice.

  
Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but it was close enough. Where it had really started was in Minako’s ballet studio, but where Yuuri had truly felt a _pull_ , a strong attraction to his superpower for the first time, had been on the ice.

 

Of course, by Yuuri’s time, superpowers had already been heard of, and although extremely rare, it was considered moral obligation to not judge superheroes. That, of course, didn’t stop rumours and other damaging beliefs to start spreading, even though most superhumans just wanted to live their lives and cause no nuisances; many didn’t even discover their talents.

 

Yuuri, on the other hand had discovered his power while young, immediately feeling the power he had while performing his first _arabesque_ , and had been terrified of telling his family and friends ever since.

 

Luckily enough, all the other kids in his ballet class had left and it was only him and Minako in the studio to witness his power. Yuuri watched his teacher raise her leg gracefully into a beautiful _arabesque_ , and as his six-year-old body clumsily tried to copy her movements, Yuuri felt a sudden tremor run through the building.

 

Minako rushed to push him under a table, trying to take cover from what she thought had been an earthquake. Later, when they realised there had been no earthquake, Minako shrugged it off, but Yuuri still felt the pulsing power in his veins, and the strength in his legs while his little brain tried to process that _he had done that._

 

After that, he tried to lessen the feeling he put into his movements in class, so that there would be no second ‘happening’ in front of an audience. However, late at night, by himself in his room, or when Minako left him in the ballet studio alone, Yuuri would raise himself _en pointe_ , and spin around the room in _piques_ , or throw himself into a  _grand jete_ , and relish the sizzling electricity that filled the air as he danced his heart out.

 

As he grew up, Yuuri began to understand his power more and more. Whilst dancing, it seemed that his human capabilities enhanced, allowing him to perform superhuman feats such as strangely high jumps and insane flexibility. He also started understanding how to use his power and fixate it on a certain object, managing to manipulate it.

 

He could make books in his room float around, zooming everywhere while he twirled in a set of 16 _pirouettes_ , could make his furniture bang to the rhythm of his _degages_ , and could probably move much larger objects if he truly let himself.

 

His superpower didn’t really mean much to him at the time, not until he got on the ice. Then, everything changed.

 

Suddenly, he had found a use for it. What sort of superhero would he have been, prancing around and making books float? On the ice, everything was different. His powerful step sequences translated into strong jumps and fast spins. His superpower was feeding off his dancing on ice, and his performances were feeding off it in some sort of weird circle of life - or figure skating.

 

Yuuri quickly became a well-known prodigy in his hometown. No one his age had managed to accomplish as many as he had. _The star on the ice_ , they called him, _he makes magic with his ice skating,_ they said. If only they knew.

 

And yet, despite his love for the ice and for dance, by the time he was twelve, Yuuri was already tired.

 

Too tired…

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was tired.

 

It had been barely a month since his skating regime had intensified, due to his growing up, and for the first time in a long while he felt truly exhausted, his energy completely spent.

 

_You’re twelve now, Yuuri! Skaters younger than you have competed in the Junior Championships! You must get there, Yuuri!_

 

As much as he loved skating, loved the feeling of the cold wind on his skin and the sound of sharp blades cutting their way through the ice, right now, his extensive training was starting to make him hate it. No longer was he in love with the adrenaline that came from completing a jump or that short window of complete silence and peace while performing a spin; the daunting pressure of having to always do more, more, more was now at the forefront of mind constantly.

 

Maybe he really wasn’t cut out for skating, Yuuri thought.

 

On the other hand, the ice was the only way to keep his secret talent hidden from the prying eyes of the public. As he age grew, so did the extent of his powers, to the point where he nearly couldn’t control them with his jumps and spins.

 

However, he had quickly learned that on the ice he could let his emotions flow freely, without worrying that any collateral damage would be done. The ice always seemed to absorb the majority of his powers, calming him and helping him to feel like a normal kid.

 

Now was not the time to think about skating or his weird powers though, when tha was what he did the majority of the day. It was late evening, just after dinner, and he and his family were huddled together on the sofa watching TV, as was their daily routine.

 

Yuuri lived for these short, warm moments. They reminded him of his when he didn’t have to struggle for a gold medal. If he thought about it too long, he’d start feeling an odd ache in his chest.

 

The lighting was low, but the flickering lamp in the corner still shone bright enough to cast a warm yellow light on his sister’s face. His parents were conversing softly, talking about something or other, and his sister was helping with his homework as usual, if she wasn’t scolding him and reminding him to keep on working instead of watching TV with her.

 

“We’ve been having incessant reports of this new superhero, Victory as he likes to call himself, flying across town and aiding people,” the newsreader’s image flickered on the screen. “While the police and city officials are grateful for his help, they agree that he cannot be fully trusted. We’ll be back with the full story after a short commercial break.”

 

“Oh my gosh! You heard that right, Yuuri? Victory is so badass!” Mari exclaimed.

 

“Huh?” Yuuri looked up from his algebra, managing to get a glimpse of the ‘flying miracle’ right before the news segment cut off to a woman brushing her teeth.

 

Victory, as he had so boldly named himself, wasn’t the first superhero to have revealed himself, not by a long shot, but he was the first superhero to do sof in Yuuri’s town. They didn’t live in a large city, so this was definitely exciting news, perfect gossip and tourist attraction material.

 

“Woah,” Yuuri breathed, having to actually pause for a few seconds, his brain trying to catch up with what was happening.

 

The figure on the screen was absolutely gorgeous, even though he looked  quite young, around fifteen or sixteen years old. His costume was a splendid recreation of a three piece suit; his sheer, dark pink cape fluttered behind him, blending perfectly into the vibrant colour of the jacket, which complimented the purple opera mask he wore to protect his identity. As he zoomed around the sky, saving people from fires and muggers, the golden embroidered material on his shoulders shone brightly, as if he were a decorated lieutenant.

His most stunning feature, though, was his long, silver locks. Watching the video, as bad as its quality might have been, Yuuri could distinctly see how brightly they glinted in the sun’s presence. His whole appearance made him seem otherworldly and ethereal, as if he was some long-lost alien prince come to save humanity from its own poisons.

 

Yuuri was completely entranced. What did algebra mean to him when he could spend the rest of his life watching this beautiful creature weave his way between the perils of the world and then consequently die of dehydration? What a way to go.

 

 _Was this what a crush felt like?_ Yuuri compared his thoughts to what his classmates were all whispering about. Perhaps not, but… it felt… It felt really nice. It felt really, very nice to watch this young boy who had so quickly managed to capture his attention.

 

“Yuuri, what are you doing, staring at the TV like that? They’re literally just playing adverts! Come on, focus on your functions for now and we can watch the next news segment together,” Mari reprimanded. Yuuri snapped himself out of his daze, processing her words and then proceeding to finish his homework that had been taking him well over an hour by now, in less time than was humanly possible.

 

He stared intently as Victory moved beautifully across his TV screen, and it was then that Yuuri made a decision which would forever change his life.

 

He was going to get Victory to notice him.

 

* * *

 

“Everything is ready to go! I believe in you, Yuuri!” Phichit smiled brightly at his best friend. Yuuri smiled appreciatively and ducked his head, blushing. His dream was finally coming together.

 

They had both been working on this project for around half a year now. Phichit had always been in Yuuri’s, admittedly small, but tight-knit, friend group. These last few months had only managed to solidify their friendships.

 

Exactly 9 months, 2 weeks and three days ago, Yuuri had confessed to Phichit about his powers, as well as admitting his biggest dream. Phicit had, of course, been skeptical at first, but all it took was a trip to Minako’s ballet studio and a locked door to prove to him that Yuuri was the real deal. And so, for these past months, they had been working to devise an ingenious plan - or well, as ingenious as a plan put together by twelve year olds could be - to get Victory to notice Yuuri.

 

Now, all that Yuuri needed was an opening.

 

“Thanks so much for helping me, Phicit. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you…”

 

“You probably wouldn’t even have come up with this plan,” Phicit teased. “Good luck, dude! You’re going to blow Victory away with this stuff.”

 

“I sure hope so…” Yuuri trailed off.

 

He wondered what it would be like being a superhero. Would it be absolutely terrifying? Having the pressure of hundreds of lives in your hands? The thought that anything you did wrong directly affected so many people?

 

Or would it be rewarding and freeing? Perhaps the feeling of being praised was intoxicating, perhaps the adrenaline rush of walking into a burning building with an opera mask over your eyes overcame any anxiety your brain might be battling.

 

Only Victory could tell him. Or, he could experience it himself. (He kind of wished that Victory would tell him all about it, in between discussing favourite superpowers and fight tactics).

 

Yuuri’s further thoughts were suddenly interrupted. The static from the old radio (that Mari’s current computer sciences student boyfriend had gotten them) they kept in their Secret Plan Room suddenly cut off into the voice of a police transmission.

 

“West Side, Willows Street, number 23. We have a situation. Vic is here but we need backup, desperately.”

 

“On it,” came the response immediately.

 

Phicit and Yuuri’s eyes met excitedly at the new information.

 

“This is it!” Phicit squealed. “Okay, follow the plan, and you’ll get Victory’s attention in no time!”

 

Yuuri smiled at his new suit, determined. He was going to do this. He _was_ _doing_ this. It was happening. Oh god, this was happening.

 

For a few seconds, before he finally pulled on his mask, Yuuri let the _what if_ s get to him. Under all the superpowers, he was only human, and he too suffered from anxiety. What if Victory wouldn’t appreciate his help? What if something went wrong and he ended up making a fool of himself? What if? _What if?_

 

Yuuri shook his head, and slowly tugged his mask on, tying it behind his head.

 

And suddenly, _everything_ changed.

 

Yuuri was no longer Yuuri, he was someone else entirely, he had become a new person. The mask covered his eyes, his nose, and part of his forehead, while his bangs covered up the other half. And now, he was completely unrecognizable. He wasn’t just Yuuri Katsuki anymore, that one kid that figure skated, he was something more, he was a _superhero_.

 

He felt his anxiety ebb away. He couldn’t ever fathom feeling scared or anxious now, not with the power of his mask. In some ways, it might’ve seemed cowardly, finding comfort and courage in hiding behind his alternate identity, but to Yuuri, it meant the whole world to have his shoulders free of all the expectations placed upon him.

 

“Yuuri! You don’t even look like yourself!” Phicit said, shocked. “You’re going to rock it out there.”

 

And for the first time since they had started this insane plan of theirs, Yuuri actually, truly believed every single word. “I know I will.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri felt his heart skip a beat in his chest as Victory’s silver hair fluttered behind him.

 

There had been a robbery at the local bank, but the culprits apparently hadn’t been seen leaving the building, meaning that they could still easily be caught. What was interesting here though, was the intervention of the French supervillain, Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps, or ‘Don’t-Waste-Your-Time’, a master of bombs and timed attacks. He had been only locally known in Switzerland at the beginning of his career, but a giant heist stealing the fourth largest diamond in the world had brought him fame and glory - and also better opportunities to steal and destroy.

 

That was the extent of Yuuri’s knowledge, the stolen police radio only provided so much information.

 

And now, here he was, ready to go in and help Victory, and prove to himself once and for all that he was powerful too.

 

God, just the thought of it made him giddy with excitement.

 

“What entrance should I use? Sneaky or grand?” Yuuri wondered aloud as he thumbed at his playlist selector, on his glove. Yuuri couldn’t dance without music, neither could he choreograph a new program without music, and so he wore a set of headphones, controlled by a remote installed into his suit.

 

“What are you doing, kid?” Yuuri whirled around, startled at the gruff voice, expecting to see an angry policeman, but was instead greeted by glinting blue eyes and gorgeous silver locks.

 

“Victory,” Yuuri breathed, mesmerised by his hero before catching himself and getting back into character. “I’m here to help! I’ve got a superpower too-”

 

“I don’t need help. Get back somewhere safe,” Victory said distractedly as his eyes followed one of the burglars trying to run away.

 

“But I can dance and make-”

 

“Listen, kid,” Victory started and Yuuri physically felt himself flinch at the nickname. He wasn’t _that_ much younger, was he? “I know you mean well, but you gotta let the grown-ups do their job, right?”

 

He felt his face heat up and Yuuri wanted to wipe the smirk right off Victory’s face; childhood crush be damned. He absolutely hated the way adults looked at him, like he wasn’t of much importance whether he skated well enough for a gold medal or saved their butts from swiss super villains . He was just a _child_ , wasn’t he?  

 

No, he wasn’t, and Victory was about to realise that, Yuuri promised himself as the indigo prince flew off to catch the two burglars trying to make a hasty escape.

 

Behind him, through the hole in the wall that the burglars had blown up, Yuuri watched as a tall, moustached man made his way through the rubble, assessing his surroundings.

 

This was his chance.

 

“Hey, stop right there!” he shouted at the Swiss man.

 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps smiled, the same smile Yuuri had seen from so many adults. It was the same look that Victory had given him. Yuuri felt his anger bubble beneath his skin, but losing control of his powers now would do him no good. He had already embarrassed himself in front of Victory, and now he had to salvage the situation.

 

“I must be on my way, I do hope you understand,” Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps said, turning to walk away as he tossed a ticking bomb towards Yuuri. He hadn’t prepared for facing a supervillain, but it felt like his body instantly knew what to do, somersaulting to the side to avoid the bomb. As he got up, he stretched up onto his toes, feeling the familiar burn in his muscles.

 

_Time to get this party started._

 

He pushed off into a _chasse entr_ _é_ _lac_ _é_ , deflecting the bomb’s course back into its owner’s path. Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps looked back towards him, surprised, but, Yuuri just smirked. The bomb-wielding villain furrowed his brow, throwing back a seemingly more complex bomb equipped with a net, and this time didn’t turn his back on Yuuri.

 

_Perfect. Please watch as I destroy you._

 

He set off into a series of dizzying steps, his mind going at a hundred miles an hour. _pas-de-chat here, keep your legs in fourth, arch your back a bit more in this grand jete, come on._ He felt himself starting to sweat. This time, there was more pressure on his shoulders than was normal. Not only was his life in danger, but so was Victory’s life, as well as the lives of anyone in the vincinity. He didn’t know the extent of Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps’ powers but he was sure that his bombs definitely had a large explosion range, and he was definitely in it.

 

Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps’ bombs began accumulating around him. However many he threw at the kid, they all bounced back in his face, and built up around him. Some sort of force field was growing around him, accumulating due to Yuuri’s dance power. He could still throw bombs at Yuuri, but any bomb he tried to push away would come rolling back towards him.

 

Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps started worrying a little, as he watched the timers on his bombs counting down. He fiddled with his remote, trying to turn them off but they wouldn’t. Why weren’t they stopping? They weren’t _actually_ going to explode, were they? Not with him inside, surely.

 

Yuuri felt a smile break out on his face. So this was what it felt like to be winning, to be the good guy beating up the evil supervillains-

 

“Kid!” Victory shouted, immediately breaking Yuuri’s focus. The force field he had created around Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps burst, just like a bubble, and suddenly all the bombs he had trapped insidewere rolling out, ready to explode any second.

 

Victory swooped in, and grabbed Yuuri by the waist, hoisting him away from the explosion behind them towards where the police cars were stationed.

 

“I look away for one minute - one minute! And now I have to deal with this?” he grumbled.

 

 _I have to deal with_ **_this_ ** _?_

 

The words stuck in Yuuri’s head.

 

Aha, so he was a _this_. Just another problem, another thing to check off a list.

 

Had Victory not seen what he was doing? He’d gotten Perd-Pas-Ton-Temps good! He had nearly managed to finish him off.

 

“Make sure to get him home safe,” Victory grumbled to the police officers standing by. Yuuri hadn’t even realised they had landed. “Listen, kid, you gotta stay out of these situations alright? Let-”

 

“Let the adults handle it, right?” Yuuri shot back defiantly. “That’s what you were going to say.”

 

Victory smiled, clearly confused. “I-yeah. Yeah. Stay out of this, ok?”

 

“He’s right, boy,” the police officer added, after Victory had shot away to catch Perds-Pas-Ton-Temps. “We  may not trust him, and he may be some scoundrel showing off, but he’s right.”

 

But Yuuri knew he _wasn’t_ right, that Victory was far, far away from being right.

 

What had he just been thinking?

 

Ah, yes. He had nearly managed to get him. If only-

 

Yuuri started, eyes alight with understanding, only to then turn dark with disgust a moment later.

 

_If only Victory hadn’t intervened._

 

If Victory hadn’t intervened, Yuuri would’ve managed to capture Perd-Pas-Ton-Temps in a trap of his own making, he could’ve proved himself to Victory, and maybe would have even started a strong friendship with him, as he supposed there was between fellow superheroes.

 

If only Victory hadn’t intervened, Yuuri could’ve finally achieved his dream. It was quite ironic how Victory himself had thwarted Yuuri’s plans to be his friend, but that wouldn’t stop him from demanding that Victory pay.

 

Yuuri spent the car ride with the policemen silently fuming.

 

What kind of a superhero was Victory, yelling at kids and turning down their offers like that? What did that even mean? Was he not good enough?

 

Wait.

 

 _Was_ he not good enough?

 

The anxiety that he had been battling these past months seemed to swallow him whole. He sighed, quickly getting rid of the mask and costume while inside the police car, as the officer talked to his parents. It was pretty late by now, and his family had been extremely worried, especially when they saw the policeman’s car pull up in their driveway. Yuuri felt numb the whole time his family coddled over him, worrying and worrying.

 

 _Stop_ , he wanted to say. _I’m nothing big. I’m just a kid._

 

That night was spent contemplating his life in his bed. Yuuri couldn’t have been bad at being a superhero - hell, he had single-handedly managed to trap Perd-Pas-Ton-Temps in a bubble of his own time bombs. Not many superheroes could say that, could they? And yet, Victory had still pulled him out of the way. Why?

 

Why?

 

* * *

 

An awkward silence was clearly present the next morning at breakfast. It felt as if someone had scooped up the closeness between Yuuri and his family, leaving him out of breath and heaving for some familiar warmth.

 

“I’m going to… clear the driveway,” his father sighed. Yuuri’s mother smiled knowingly, and agreed to go help his father with the snow. Yuuri didn't miss the sharp glance his mother sent his sister before going out.

 

“Are you here to interrogate me now?” he said after a short silence.

 

Mari sighed. “It’s not like that Yuuri. They mean well, but…”

 

“But they don’t understand like you do,” Yuuri completed her sentence.

 

“Something like that,” Mari smiled. “Are you, though? Going to tell me anything, I mean.”

 

Yuuri sighed, weighing his options. He knew that once his sister knew the gravity of his situation, his parents would never find out. The tricky problem was confessing. Not many people would believe him, and it wasn’t the easiest thing to talk about.

 

“At least you had me around when you were eleven, I had to hear the birds and the bees from mom and dad; this conversation can’t possibly be worse than that,” Mari joked, trying to lighten the mood.

 

“I… this is going to sound crazy,” Yuuri gulped. “I can make things float and like, cause sort of, earth tremors? With my dancing.”

 

The next few seconds of waiting were absolute agony.

 

“You… oh. Oh!” Mari exclaimed. “Whew, that’s good.”

 

“Wait, what?!” Yuuri said. “What do you mean ‘whew, that’s good’, what did you guys think I had done, murdered a person?”

 

“Well, to be fair, you did come home in a police car, and honestly I wouldn’t put it past you, so… we jumped to the worst conclusions.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. “You actually thought I’d murdered someone?”

 

“You can’t judge us for that!” Mari said, slightly defensively. “But also, hold up, rewind, you have superpowers?”

 

“Yeah, nothing big,” Yuuri rolled his eyes. His concentration fell to the pot of sugar on the table before him. Slowly, carefully, Yuuri raised himself _en pointe_ , moving his arms from first to fifth _en haut_. The small object gracefully floated upwards, in time with Yuuri’s movements.

 

“So if you can do that, how’d you get in so much trouble?” Mari asked.

 

So, Yuuri told her his story. Wanting to meet Victory, working on everything with Phichit and finally getting his opening. Then, Victory’s condescending words, and his failed attempt at capturing a villain.

 

“Wow,” Mari’s eyebrows were furrowed. “Did not expect Victory to be so… rude?”

 

Her tone rose a bit at the end of her sentence, making it sound like it was question. Yuuri himself was unsure of how to describe his encounter with Victory. It wasn’t like he had been the worst person ever, but he hadn’t been all too nice either.

 

“Yeah, me neither… Thing is though, now I can’t stop thinking about it. Why the did he not want any of my help?”

 

“You are quite young, and also a midget, so he might’ve underestimated your age,” Mari teased, ruffling Yuuri’s hair. “That doesn’t mean giving up! We’ll  turn you into a superhero yet… Just when you’re older.”

 

“Older? Come _on_ , Mari! He’ll have forgotten about me by then!” Yuuri whined.

 

“Well then, you’ll just have to make him remember! We’ve got 6 more years until you’re 18 - legally an adult! Now though, you’ve got to choose what you want to do, figure skating or superhero shit?”

 

Yuuri frowned. “Swear jar,” he said before continuing: “And about that… I’ve got time to choose, right? It’s not like I’m going to give up ice skating right now. Besides, it’s a good outlet for me. I can let go when I’m on the ice.”

 

Mari considered him for a while. “Yeah you’ve got time brobut choose wisely. I’ll go make up some excuse for Mom and Dad. What do you say to pretending you stole some of those ice creams you like so much?”

 

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Yuuri replied. “Fine, I guess it’s good enough.”

 

 _Choose wisely_ , the words echoed in his head.

 

Yuuri hated choosing, hated knowing that whatever he did there was always a chance he might turn everything upside down. As he grew up, he had to let go of the comfort of having his parents or his sister choose for him, and he was becoming more and more anxious about all these _choices_ he was presented.

 

Yuuri reminded himself of the rush of beating the villain, the high that he had been on for the few seconds after dancing with such emotion. He couldn’t ever let himself go like that at Minako’s, and not even on the ice. He loved it.

  
When the time came, he knew he would make the right decision.

 


	2. the strongest

“Katsuki! Get back out here, we need you!” Takeshi called, before immediately fleeing to the counter.

 

Yuuri sighed, putting his glasses back on and grabbing his apron. The old lady that used to work at the Nishigori Café had recently quit, having moved to the countryside to live with her daughter. Because of this, his work hours had nearly doubled, and he was left with no break time at all. 

 

The Nishigoris were close family friends, and he didn't mind working the extra hours. It helped keep his mind busy, and now more than ever he needed that. 

 

Yesterday, he had finally seen and talked face-to-face with Victory in nearly 10 years. 

 

God, had it really been 10 years ago that he'd first confronted Victory? It seemed like only yesterday he'd been pushed towards the police, away from Victory, away from his one goal. The memory was still fresh in his mind; it burned into view when he closed his eyes and invaded his dreams at night. 

 

Logically, as he grew older, Yuuri was able to understand Victory’s point of view - what superhero in his right mind would want some thirteen year old claiming to have superpowers run around them while they tried to save the world? - but, on the inside, he still felt annoyed when watching news clips of Victory, even borderline angry. There was nothing like being able to hold a grudge because of some insignificant event, that was for sure. 

 

“Hello, could I get a caramel macchiato?” the teenager’s request shook Yuuri out of his stupor.

 

“Sure,” he smiled, grabbing a cup and writing the girl’s name on it. 

 

The coffee machine’s low humming wasn’t a good enough distraction apparently, and he felt himself slipping back into his thoughts. Yesterday had been one hell of a day...

 

* * *

 

“Eagle 1 to It Happened Once In A Dream, are you ready to go?” Phichit’s voice crackled through his earphone system.

 

“I wish you’d stop referencing shows and overused memes,” Yuuri huffed, not being able to laugh properly as he was sprinting across a couple of skyscrapers at the moment. “Yes, I’m ready to go, Eagle 1.”

 

“My memes are not overused!” Phichit replied, pretending to be offended. “On a more serious note though, are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

 

Yuuri held his breath; he had known that this question would come up at some point. Phichit, of all people, knew how much Victory had affected him in his childhood, and he would of course place his friend’s emotional security above the safety of their city. 

 

At 16, after winning his last Junior World Championship, Yuuri had quit professional ice skating. The decision had been coming for a long time, that much was sure. Yuuri loved the ice, loved it with all his heart - after all, he had given up so much for figure skating - but his true duty was the one towards his people. 

 

For years he’d balled up his hands in frustration and backed away whenever he witnessed a civilian in distress.  _ Don’t give yourself away, don’t let them find out about you.  _ That had been his plan, but it didn’t make watching crimes happen right in front of him any easier. 

 

Yuuri continued his life as a  _ nearly _ normal teenager. Friends had been fairly easy to make due to his fame, even though he was generally a shy person. He had managed to filter out any ill-intentioned people and ended up with a group of friends that he still talked to.  

 

Phichit had stuck around of course, and still helped him with costume designs and tech fabrication. He claimed to have taken that one computing class in high school for fun, but Yuuri knew it was really just to learn how to program his suit equipment. 

 

After high school, Yuuri had felt slightly lost, still not knowing if he was ready to confront Victory. His teenage years had been really confusing, and university had sounded like the best option at the time, even though he knew that the longer he spent running from his superhero life the less chance there would be  that Victory remembered him. 

 

Now here he was. He had been working at the Nishigori Caf é for nearly a year since his graduation last summer, with a double major in dance and literature. It was early spring, and after months of so-called ‘preparations’ he couldn’t put off dealing with Victory and his powers anymore. 

 

He knew it was selfish, keeping his powers hidden from the public when he could be helping people in danger, but his anxiety had only grown over the years, and he wasn’t a reckless thirteen year old anymore. That kid had been replaced by an anxiety and debt-ridden student a long time ago. 

 

The only difference now, was that by day he was only a student, but by night he could slip on a mask and become Eros, the most confident hero on the block - although he still needed to prove that to the public. Something about the mask let Yuuri completely let go of all his inhibitions; he felt so free when he slipped it on, and now it was finally time to display this confidence to the whole city - and most importantly, to Victory.

 

Yuuri stopped for a second to catch his breath and enjoy the view. He was currently standing on the roof of a high-rise office building. The late afternoon sun shone lazily across the tops of the glass structures, casting its warm, honey-coloured aura all over the city. Gorgeous cloud formations decorated the sky, and everything seemed too picture-perfect to be true; a short moment of calm before the fight, like the eye of the storm. 

 

Suddenly, the spell was broken by a solitary figure, weaving its way between buildings and chasing what seemed to be a human fireball. 

 

_ Gotcha _ , thought Yuuri.

 

“Target acquired?” Phichit asked. 

 

“I’m moving in,” Yuuri heaved himself onto the next building, increasing his speed so as to catch up to the two swooping figures. 

 

“I’ve said this too many times already, but… be careful?” Phichit said, a slight tremor in his voice. If it had been anyone other than Yuuri, maybe they wouldn’t have even noticed it - blamed it on static perhaps - but Yuuri knew his friend well enough to know when he was scared - and right now he was. Everyone knew the danger that came with  being a superhero; hell, they’d all seen countless heroes fall due to injuries or impulsive actions. 

 

“I’ll be careful, Phichit,” Yuuri promised. “I know I can hold my own in a battle - I did it when I was 13. It’s Victory I’m worried about.”

 

“On the one hand, he might recognize you and start groveling for forgiveness at your feet, or on the other he doesn’t recognize you and you show him what you’re made of. Both sound pretty good to me,” Phichit encouraged his friend. 

 

“Yeah. It’ll be fine, I can do this,” Yuuri panted, his heart beating loudly in his chest as he deftly jumped from rooftop to rooftop. “Who’s the guy we’re chasing?”

 

“Heato. Not the most creative name, but he’s got cool powers, I’ll give him that. He sets stuff on fire mostly, and he sometimes works on our side but this new villain, Cerebrum, has manipulated him into working against the heroes.”

 

Yuuri had heard of Cerebrum; he had psychic powers he used to bend people’s thoughts and was becoming quite the threat. Recently, he had amassed a small army of superheroes that he used to fight the rest of the supers in town. He had to be stopped, or else everyone would fall under his control. 

 

“Ok, on it.” Yuuri worked his way down to street level, where Victory and Heato were fighting. The deep colours of each superhero’s costume blended together perfectly as they fought, Victory’s royal purple and youthful pink complemented Heato’s fiery oranges and reds surprisingly well. Heato’s suit seemed to be inspired by ancient roman gladiators; his getup consisted of classic leather armour, and a feathered helmet. The bright red streak in his bold blonde hair complimented the young boy’s outfit, and Yuuri wondered if it had been a pre- or post-superhero choice. 

 

As he neared them, he saw Heato send a shower of sparks towards the base of a metal pole holding up the new modern art sculptures around town. Yuuri didn’t even have the time to call out a warning before the large white structure  crumbled over Victory. Luckily, he was quick enough to escape, but just as he flew away from the collapsing remains, his cape got caught on a falling piece of granite. 

 

“Godammit, no capes!” Phichit swore. “Why do they all have capes? Capes are the worst!”

 

“Yes, we’ve been over this, Phichit,” Yuuri placated his friend. “Time for some action.”

 

“Hah! The famous Victory trapped by his own costume! Isn’t that a lovely coincidence?” Heato snarked, his voice whiny, even cracking at one point - he was definitely still a teenager.

 

Victory was channeling all his energy into pulling free from the heavy stone, but  the elasticated cape wouldn’t tear fast enough. Cerebrum would take over the whole city by the time he rid himself of this trap. 

 

_ Good thing I’m here now _ , Yuuri thought, semi-pleased. 

 

“I should go and announce Master now! I can’t believe it! I, Heato, have finally managed to capture the great Victory! Hah!” Heato bragged. 

 

“Not so fast,” Yuuri growled,  his voice low in case he was recognised. 

 

“Wow, a rather girly costume, don’t you think?” Heato smirked. “And who are you, princess?” 

 

Even Victory seemed surprised at the intrusion, but Yuuri couldn’t tell yet whether he realised who he was or not. Yuuri had grown up, and obviously his appearance had changed, but his costume was the same. It still retained the jagged mirror-pattern across his hips and shoulder; the only changes were  the skirt he used to cover up his radio equipment and the sturdier material. 

 

Yuuri hadn’t given his superhero name too much thought. Phichit had once jokingly called him Eros, (“ _ Well, I mean, it’s all black and tight and stuff, you might as well impersonate the god of sensuality” _ ) and the name stuck. 

 

Eros didn’t even waste time replying to Heato. He immediately jumped down onto the street from his rooftop vantage point, switched songs, and began his routine.

 

Yuuri might’ve loved Eros because he  gave him a chance to be another person, and he might’ve loved Eros for his powers, his ability to save civilians, but this, losing himself in the music and the dance,  _ this _ would always be what he loved best. He didn’t even need to think as his body slipped into familiar choreography, more fluid and advanced than anything his thirteen year old body could’ve danced. 

 

Heato hadn’t even seen it coming. Yuuri’s powers attacked him relentlessly, he was continuously pelted by bits of rubble or chased by moving cars or cornered by Eros himself. The flickering flames that had up to now been burning in hostility and advancing towards the still-trapped Victory, were taking a defensive stance around Heato as he tried to turn the battle in his favour. 

 

It was Eros’ first battle in years, and no one had taken any notice of his powers as a thirteen year old, so the element of surprise was on his side, but Yuuri knew that soon enough, the battles would get harder and he’d have to put real talent and strategy into them. 

 

It seemed that Yuuri’s predictions had turned true too soon, as Heato began shrugging off his initial shock to start his attack once more. Yuuri was already weakened by the lack of oxygen and high levels of smoke in the air, so he had to act fast. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a fire hydrant rolling down a crumbling stairwell. 

 

_ A fire hydrant… to put out a fiery supervillain! _ Yuuri thought excitedly. Every building in the vicinity was surely equipped with several fire hydrants, and all he had to do was summon the right objects to his aid. Stomping hard on the ground, Eros reached out with his choreography, mentally dragging every item that might possibly douse Heato’s flames toward their fight scene, and immediately a mountain of fire hydrants and various other containers were rolling towards him. It wasn’t long before Eros had Heato trapped in the corner of a crumbling building, his flames drenched and his face crimson. 

 

“Who the hell  _ are _ you?” Heato asked petulantly as Eros tied him up for the police to find. 

 

“I mean, the obvious answer would be ‘your worst nightmare’ but you can call me Eros,” Yuuri grunted, pulling together the last knot of the fire-resistant rope. “So long, buddy.”

 

_ That poor teenager, _ Yuuri thought. 

 

As soon as he was able, Yuuri danced off to the place where they had left Victory, trapped by his cape, to find that he wasn’t there anymore.  Sure, their fight had taken a bit of time and spanned a couple of streets, but Victory hadn’t run away  _ that _ fast had he? The piece of granite, however, had been flipped over and lay a couple meters to his right, still rocking back and forth with the momentum Victory had used to throw it. He wasn’t far away.

 

“I got you, he’s at 4 o’clock”, Phichit checked in. Yuuri twisted on his heel to see Victory’s cape fluttering behind him, getting smaller and smaller as he flew to where Heato was tied up. A minute later, he came out, seemingly satisfied with Yuuri’s job, and immediately bounded over to where Yuuri was standing. He prepared himself mentally for the harsh words that Viktor would surely spout. 

 

_ Offensive comments in three, two... _

 

“You were amazing! Oh my gosh, and they way you attacked him, gorgeous and deadly, I was ready to die-” Victory started to ramble about Heato’s defeat, and Yuuri’s world came to a screeching halt.

 

_ What _ .

 

_ Woah. Wait. Hold up.  _

 

“Uuuhhh, isn’t this guy supposed to be more of an… asshole?” Phichit’s voice rang out in his headphones, voicing his thoughts. 

 

“... And I think I reme-”

 

“I, uh, thanks. I gotta go,” Eros babbled, which -  _ what the hell was happening Eros never babbled keep your calm Yuuri, dammit! _

 

But Yuuri knew he needed to get away from Victory, if not to tend to his bruises, then to take a moment and scream at the world for a bit. 

 

Just a bit. 

 

“I’m pretty sure you woke up everyone on the other side of the world,” Phichit added helpfully, once Yuuri had finished shouting for five minutes straight from the top of a building a few miles away. 

 

He was sitting on the edge of the roof, kicking his feet in the wind. “Why was he so…  _ nice _ ?”

 

“You say that as if a person being nice is a bad thing,” Phichit pointed out. Yuuri’s silence made his position very clear. 

 

“Ok, look, people change! You have to think about it, Victory was still just a teenager when you first met him, you should really give him a chance! He’s probably different now, considering how he reacted to you…”

 

“I just… God, I feel so conflicted, you know?”

 

Very conflicted, actually. What did it all mean? Why was Victory suddenly gushing about him like some sort of fangirling teenager? Surely that couldn’t be the real him. Maybe he’d been putting on a nice mask to greet the new hero? But that couldn’t be right, he’d been taken by surprise when meeting Yuuri and their interactions had seemed genuine enough...

 

“You’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Phichit concluded after another long silence. “Sleep on it. Besides, we can still give him a hard time for giving you shit when you were younger, right?”

 

* * *

 

“A coffee for Mikayla?” Yuuri asked once he had finished brewing the latest order. A young woman quickly came to pick it up before going back to reading one of the books in the caf é ’s personal library.

 

He was lucky that there hadn’t been too many clients these past few days. Yuuko basically managed the business, since Takeshi worked as a night duty firefighter and was useless most of the day. Yuuko had mentioned wanting to hire another staff member at one point, but after that Yuuri hadn’t heard her speak of it. He was managing the shop front fine as he was, but an extra pair of hands would definitely have been helpful, especially when spring break hit and they were swamped by bored students from the nearby college. 

 

Yuuri shifted awake and out of his thoughts as the bell above the door jingled. He quickly set himself back into action, wiping down any dirty surfaces, and straightening his back to turn around and politely greet whoever had just walked in .

 

“Hi, welcome to Nishigori’s, what can I get you-” Yuuri gasped, staring. 

 

He was pretty sure he was seeing an angel. A real angel. Right here on earth, maybe three meters in front of him, an angel had just walked through the door of the caf é . Yuuri was done for. 

 

The angel in question happened to be a young man - perhaps around 26 years old? - with shining ice-blue eyes and soft silver hair. His heart-shaped smile seemed to fill his whole being with an overwhelming look of happiness, and it was as infectious as it was joyous.

 

_ Shit. He’s coming over to talk to me. Don’t be stupid, this is a caf _ _ é _ _ , of course he’s here to talk to me, I’m the barista.  _

 

“H-Hi, welcome to Nishigori’s! I, um, I- what can I get you?” Yuuri blurted all in one breath. Well, it hadn’t been as disastrous as his previous attempts at speaking to good-looking people, so it counted as a success. 

 

“Oh! I’m not here to get anything, sorry, I’ve come here to collect my new schedule and uniform? I’ve been accepted as a new employee here,” the stranger smiled dazzlingly, presenting the official documents which stated that yes, Yuuko had accepted him as a cashier and barista alongside Yuuri.

 

It took Yuuri a moment to comprehend the full extent of those words.

 

Coworker.

 

Could Yuuko have hired him at a worse moment? Probably not. Here he was, Yuuri Katsuki the introverted superhuman, being presented a new opportunity to communicate with a deliciously attractive member of the same species and it was happening just as he was ending the most important dispute of his life. Great. 

 

Maybe he should’ve just stuck to the ice skating thing, ended up with a hot coach and then eloped with him to Barcelona. That sounded much better. 

 

“Oh, yeah, of course! L-let me show you around the back,” Yuuri said, cringing.  _ God _ was he pretty. But what was Yuuri going to do about it? Nothing. They reached Yuuko’s office. “You should be able to sort out any details with her.”

 

“Thank you,” the stranger replied, plastering a 100-Watt smile on his face that nearly blew Yuuri away. “I’m Viktor, by the way.”

 

“Yuuri,” he responded pleasantly. “Nice meeting you, but I-I’ve got to get back to the counter so, um... Yeah, um. Bye.”

 

_ Yeah, um. Bye?! _

 

More like,  _ yeah, um. Could I possibly make a bigger fool of myself? _

 

The rational voice in the back of Yuuri’s head told him to stop agonizing over that one small piece of dialogue, and yet the reigning anxiety in his brain decided to ignore it completely, over-analyzing everything he had ever said to Viktor. How unsurprising. 

 

Dejected, Yuuri returned to the front counter, taking a couple of customers’ orders and trying not to think about how awkward it would be to watch as Viktor left. What did Viktor think of Yuuri? Did he hate his new workplace now? 

 

The time between customers placing drink requests seemed to lengthen, as he painstakingly waited for Viktor to exit Yuuko’s office. How long ago had he gone inside again?

 

As he was handing over a green tea to an older lady, Yuuri felt a light tap against his shoulder, and guessing it was Yuuko, he turned, relaxed, smiling, only to find himself  _ much _ too close to Viktor. He was standing right behind Yuuri, hand placed on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. He could feel the lines of Viktor’s body behind him and if Yuuri concentrated hard enough, he would be able to make out the slight stubble on Viktor’s jaw or the darker flecks of blue in his icy eyes. 

 

Yuuri felt his heart skip several beats as Viktor fixed him with his trademark smile again (he was calling it the VikSmile). 

 

“Need any help?” Viktor said, completely clueless to the effect he was having upon Yuuri. He felt his already slight blush deepen on his face.

 

“Ah, n-no, I’m. Just fine,” he smiled in what he hoped was a relaxed way, and handed the older lady her drink. She seemed to have understood what was going on, and winked at Yuuri as if wishing him luck. 

 

“Oops, you’ve got some chocolate syrup there!” Viktor exclaimed, dragging his finger against Yuuri cheek so as to clean up a stray sugary droplet, but Yuuri was pretty sure that he’d only given out teas for the past two hours. “You’re so cute, Yuuri!”

 

Yeah, he might need a stretcher. 

 

* * *

 

“He licked chocolated syrup off your cheek?” Phichit stared at Yuuri in disbelief. “Let me repeat. Your new coworker licked chocolate syrup off your cheek?!”

 

“He just brushed it o- well, that’s not the point.” Yuuri moaned in frustration. He was lying upside down on their sofa, fingers tangled in his hair and his palms digging into his eyes. “If only he hadn’t been so gorgeous-”

 

“If only he hadn’t- ok Katsuki, you’re a damn superhero, do you really need a confidence booster? Because I’ll give you a confidence booster. You are  _ the _ katsudon fatale, Yuuri, you enthrall both men and women-”

 

“No, no, no. That’s what  _ Eros _ does. Yuuri Katsuki doesn’t seduce  _ anyone _ , nevermind Victor,” Yuuri sighed. 

 

“Why is it that once you slip on the mask you become this self-assured superdemon, ready to fuck shit up for villains? Why can’t you be like that in real life?” Phichit asked, frustrated. “Any man would be lucky to be with you, Yuuri. You got this.”

 

“God, why  _ can’t _ I be more confident? I know my fears have no real basis and all that’s standing in the way is my anxiety, but I can’t help but melt into a puddle of goo when he’s around.” Yuuri sighed, remembering the tension-filled afternoon he had spent showing Viktor how to use the equipment correctly. 

 

Yuuri had wanted to flee the caf é and yet he never wanted the light touches and small smiles to end. It had seemed that at any one time, Viktor was in physical contact with Yuuri; that is, if he wasn’t dealing with a customer or making a drink. Yuuri had almost floated out of the caf é after closing; his skin had been buzzing nonstop and the butterflies in his stomach had made him feel sick - in a good way - anytime Viktor came close.   

 

“I don’t need a crush right now. Especially not on my coworker,” Yuuri groaned.

 

“You mean, _especially_ on your coworker! So, this guy is cute, sweet, and probably definitely likes you too. Why not take a chance?” Phichit said. 

 

Yuuri frowned, still weighing the pros and cons of giving in to Viktor. 

 

His best friend sighed, “Look, Mila from a couple desks across from me is having a party tonight, she definitely wouldn’t mind if I brought you along. Go out with me and forget about Viktor, or Victory - don’t give me that look Yuuri! I know you’ve been thinking about him too! - and just…have some fun!” 

 

Yuuri remembered the other times he had been invited to Phichit’s coworkers’ parties. Phichit was in charge of the social media accounts of a digital media company that distributed informative and entertaining videos and articles online. For a social butterfly like Phichit, it was the best job he could’ve hoped for. However, the fact that he worked a nine-to-five job in an office alongside some other forty twenty-somethings meant that their weekend get-togethers got  _ pretty _ insane.  

 

Although now that Yuuri thought more about it, drinking until he couldn’t remember his own name seemed like a pretty good idea. When else would he have the chance to do something so crazy? His college experience had been an anxiety-fuelled nightmare. Besides, Yuuri had met Mila before, and she had seemed nice. Maybe her party wouldn’t be as crazy as the others? (Oh, who was he kidding. It was going to be crazy, and he knew it.)

 

But he could take a chance once in awhile, right? The world didn’t need saving right now, did it? 

 

This was a very bad idea. This was an extremely bad idea. Was he going to go through with it? Absolutely. 

 

What if he accidentally mentioned Eros? Yuuri frowned, trying to find a solution to get past this problem. He was by no means a lightweight, and could hold his alcohol pretty well despite not partying in college, so by the time he’d manage to divulge any vigilante secrets, everyone around him would be completely hammered and wouldn’t understand a word of what he’d be saying. It was perfect!

 

Phichit flashed Yuuri a brilliant smile before going back to his phone. “I see you mentally agreeing. You’ll have fun, for sure!”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was most definitely not having fun. 

 

Why had he agreed to this again? Ah, yes, drinking. He wanted to forget about Victory and Viktor and all other crazy shit that was going.  _ Is there only champagne at this damn party?  _ He thought distractedly as he grabbed another glass. Was it his fifth? Sixth? 

 

Was it going to matter either way? 

 

Yuuri had spent the first half of the party flitting around from snack table to snack table, engaging in polite conversation but never really sitting down to talk to anyone. He was friendly enough with Phichit’s coworkers - after all, they saw him most of the time when he came in for Phichit’s lunch break - and they all politely included him in their conversations, but it became pretty clear that he wasn’t in on their jokes or references.

 

“Oh hello there, Yuuri,” someone grabbed his behind. There was only one person he was on good enough terms who was also bold enough to do this and that person was-

 

“Chris,” Yuuri smiled politely, tilting his glass towards the handsome Swiss man. “How are you?” 

 

Chris was one of Phichit’s good friends, and now also his co-worker. The two of them had known each other since they’d both graduated, when they had joined the same company. Yuuri was introduced to Chris not long after that. It had been obvious from very early on that Phichit had a thing for Mr. Sex Appeal, and that thing had slowly transformed into a full-blown crush. Because of this, Yuuri had grown even more determined to befriend Chris, make sure he wasn’t a bad person, and be the best wingman he could ever be. 

 

He finished catching up with Chris, before deciding that he had waited enough and was ready to start  _ really _ drinking. 

 

The second half of the party... that was when things had got a little more interesting. It wasn’t so much a flip of a switch, rather a gradual warmth growing in his chest making him slowly lose himself. After the ninth drink was when things started getting hazy. 

 

Faces blurred into smeared colours, limbs turned into simple shapes and the only constant was the champagne bottle in his hand and the loud thrum of people around him, urging him on excitedly. 

 

He didn’t exactly remember who he challenged and why, but all he knew was that his drunk self was better at dance battles than he had expected. Was the alcohol possibly bringing out more of his power? 

 

Still being able to think somewhat clearly, Yuuri focused all his power onto the people surrounding him, trying his hardest to not raise any large objects accidentally.  _ Woah, I’m like Cerebrum, _ Yuuri thought giddily as he forced everyone’s attention upon himself, distracting them from his mistakes and enhancing his intricate choreography. Later, Yuuri would think the words ‘ _ woah, I’m like Cerebrum _ ’ with a deeply horrified understanding, but for now, laughing at his silly self was as far as it went. 

 

It got even worse after the twelfth - or thirteenth? - drink, when someone brought out a pole and - oh what the hell. He was already drunk enough not to regret it, at least. 

 

Yuuri pushed himself up the pole, the familiar burn in his abdominal muscles making him nostalgic. It was hard focusing his power on these people with all the alcohol in his system, but even if a couple of books did start to float or a vase scooted a little to the right, who would notice? Besides, the most important thing right now was to keep up with Chris and his pole-dancing skills; Yuuri was going to try his best to impress his crowd.

 

Yet through all the indistinguishable voices and surroundings, Yuuri was able to make out a distinctive pair of shining bright blue eyes and soft silver hair. 

 

And so what if Yuuri imagined them to be Victory’s? No one had to know. 

 

* * *

 

_ Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. _

 

The pain in his head seemed to be an endless beat of  _ hurt _ , his headache worsening as he opened his eyes. He quickly shut them again, the dim light filtering into the room making his pain explode tenfold. 

 

Where the hell was he? Had they even gotten home after the party last night? After a couple of seconds preparing himself for the ensuing pain, he forced his eyelids open to take in his surroundings. Luckily, this time round didn’t hurt as badly as the last, and he was able to make out distinct shapes. Dark red drapes were the first thing he saw, the light bathing the room in a warm golden hue through the thick cloth. 

 

He glanced around slowly, mindful not to move his eyes too quickly, and noticed the other unfamiliar objects around the room. There was a lavender carpet on the floor, and the bed had a geometric purple design on its sheets.  _ Yup, definitely not my room _ .  _ My room’s blue. _

 

With great difficulty, he pulled himself into a sitting position, ignoring the protests from his head and stomach. God, what time was it? Yuuri knew that if he sat here simply considering his misery he wouldn’t feel any better, so he forced himself to his feet and went downstairs to get some water in his system immediately.

 

“Morning, Yuuri! Sleep well?” Chris asked with a wink as soon as he saw Yuuri. There were a couple of others who had apparently slept over, chatting on the sofas.

 

“Chris. I swear to god I will fucking murder you in your sleep. Please give me some water and an ibuprofen,” Yuuri muttered, letting his head drop into his hands on the counter.  

 

“Bad hangover?” was all Chris said before handing him a glass and some pills. “Come share your woes with us.” He gestured to the three people huddled around the radio. 

 

Yuuri swallowed two pills with a mouthful of water, then winced as he tried to hear what the presenter was saying through his pounding headache. 

 

_ “... we’ve been receiving unusual reports about several simultaneous power outages this morning,  difficult to pinpoint because- wait a minute. I’m getting a message from my coworker here, thank you;  apparently the police have been battling a certain Electri for some time, and having seen no sign of Victory, are sending out a distress call across all media platforms. Wherever you may be Victory, the police need you downtown. Thank you, and now onto the weather-” _

  
  


_ Shit _ . 

 

Just when he was sporting the worst hangover imaginable, some villain had to come along and shut down the whole city’s mainframe. Usually, his anxiety made him overthink every possible scenario - and he wouldn’t be caught dead doing something so risky - but it seemed that yesterday he had still been riding on the high of his new crush, and Yuuri’s brain had managed to somehow forget the possibility of an attack the day after drinking enough to put an elephant to sleep.

 

“I, ah… need to check up on Phichit,” Yuuri mumbled some half-believable apology, before sprinting as fast as he could while still only  half-awake to the bedroom where he knew Phichit was sleeping. 

 

Yuuri closed the door behind him softly, so as not to alert anyone else to their conversation. “Phichit… Phichit wake up, quick.”

 

“Wa.. water?” Phichit groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “Some painkillers first, please? Don’t do this to a hungover man.” 

 

Yuuri was sure that Phichit had probably had worse hangovers in college, and so decided to apologise for waking him up after saving the city. “Listen, I just overheard a report on the radio: some dude Electri is destroying the town’s power centres, I need to get there, quick. Where’s  _ the thing _ ?” 

 

At least that had woken Phichit up. He floundered for a bit, gasping Yuuri’s story before hurrying out of bed (at an admittedly still slow pace) to grab the rucksack they brought with them everywhere. Phichit insisted on carrying his costume and keeping it safe, and it seemed his attentiveness had saved them today. Inside was a transparent plastic bag carrying a folded up piece of black material. It would’ve seemed inconspicuous enough to anyone who caught sight of it accidentally - perhaps the spare clothes of a germaphobe? - but it was much more than that. Yuuri thanked Phichit clumsily before nearly tripping over himself on his way to the en suite bathroom. 

 

Changing into his suit didn’t take long, but fiddling around with the wires and the audio equipment did. He had kept his thirteen-year-old’s self idea of having music to help with his choreography, but no matter what they tried - even after  they’d re-sewn the suit - Yuuri and Phichit could not for the life of them figure out how to tame the wires that connected his headphones, remote and music library. Apparently tangled up headphones were a force of nature that he wouldn’t beat any time soon. 

 

“Good luck.” Phichit was sitting on the edge of the bed, still looking dazed. “You kicked ass yesterday, and you’ve possibly still got a little bit of that ‘surprise’ element.”

 

Yuuri nodded, not really knowing how to respond. His mind was going at a hundred miles an hour, figuring out villain tactics, debating what strategy to use and asking himself if he really would be able to make it through the whole thing without throwing up. He was lucky that he hadn’t done so already. 

 

_ Knock. Knock _ . “Phichit? Yuuri?”

 

Someone was at the door, and he most certainly didn’t have time to change; he had to leave now. Yuuri nearly flew across the room as Phichit stalled the other person with small talk. He looked out of the window, assessing what would happen if he jumped out of a two story building. Oh well - the person at the door was growing more insistent, so  _ here goes nothing _ . 

 

Luckily, no one was around to witness his fall, so he quickly switched into his superhero mindset - a superhero with a hangover, but a superhero nonetheless. As he fell, he pulled himself into a twirl (almost that of a figure skating jump) and landed weightlessly in the grass of the backyard. 

 

_ Show time _ , he thought, before sprinting off to where he could see a large cloud of smoke rising. 

 

* * *

 

Perhaps heading into battle against a powerful villain who was wide awake and not in extreme pain due to a raging hangover wasn’t the best idea ever, but it wasn’t like he had had much choice. 

 

Eros jumped from the electrical generator beneath his feet onto a transmission tower nearby to avoid the shower of sparks Electri had sent his way. So far he had mostly been on the  defensive, and no matter what he did his hangover only got worse. His surroundings smudged together, shapes began taking on different forms and colours blended into muddy browns when he twisted around, as if an artist were wiping down the palette of his vision. Yuuri felt sick. 

 

“Damn, you new superheroes are weak,” Electri laughed wickedly. 

 

_ I’m not weak, _ Yuuri wanted to scream.  _ You try fighting with a splitting hangover and see how strong you are.  _

 

Electri seemed fairly young; her long, thick hair whipped behind her constantly, blurring into the darkness of her super suit. She wore a dark blue - nearly black - skin tight costume, adorned with silver lightning designs. Around her waist was a belt of what Yuuri assumed were various batteries, which she probably used to build up her power. 

 

Eros gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus despite his pounding headache.  _ Dance, dance, dance. That’s all you need to do. _

 

He closed his eyes and let his surroundings fall away. They weren’t of much use to him either way. He fiddled with his remote until he was happy with his song choice. Soft, pastel colours spread across the backs of his eyes as he listened to the calming tune. Breathing in deeply, he raised his foot and stepped into the air. In the distance, outside his mental bubble, he heard a faint “ _ what the hell are you doing _ ” but ignored it, pushing his pain to aid him. 

 

The constant thrum in his head began beating in time to the music; the sharp feeling of hurt bled into his vision, not fully allowing him to see where everything was with his eyes closed but telling him where the next step would be, guiding him across his dancefloor. 

 

Only once before had he called so deeply upon his power that he submerged himself in it. He had been skating one of his routines during a competition, had tuned himself into the mindset necessary for competing so quickly that everything around him seemed to fall away and all that remained was him, and the music. It illuminated his path and made him hypersensitive to every outside factor, even though he wasn’t experiencing them directly anymore. 

 

Eros felt himself jump from one piece of equipment to the next, immediately knowing where his next foothold would be or where to hang onto without getting electrocuted. He whipped the pieces of fallen electrical cords around him into a pseudo-tornado as he advanced towards Electri. He vaguely felt her frantic struggle against him, but he now was mentally prepared. Just because he had failed to be a responsible adult didn’t mean he couldn’t completely wipe the floor with her. 

 

Inside his mind, he could see the strong fight she was putting up, but there was something very off, very dark about the neon blue colours she sported in his mind’s eye. Underneath the shield she put up he could sense a much more sinister storm of greys controlling her every move.

 

_ Ah, Cerebrum. _

 

It took him by surprise; the colours of his music nearly retreated in shock at the discovery that they weren’t fighting the blue - they were fighting the grey. A small distraction, but a distraction nevertheless, just enough to cost him his concentration. Either that, or his body had given up on sustaining his side of the mental battle, still too weak after the night before. 

 

It felt like waking up from a deep sleep to a faceful of cold water - that is to say, not at all pleasant. Yuuri gasped for air, his body shutting down quickly, with the weight of his exhaustion finally slamming down on top of him. It took all the strength he had to grab onto a hook on the side of a metal transmission tower and not fall to his death. 

 

The electrical cords he had taken control of had luckily managed to half-trap Electri, but she was quickly disentangling herself , and using her powers to charge the cables, ready to shoot at Yuuri. 

 

_ What a glorious death. Golden showers of sparks everywhere, accompanied by the splatter of my blood. _

 

Maybe he shouldn’t have been this morbid about things, but the situation  _ was  _ calling for it. 

 

“Oh come on, dude, today of all days?” He heard a familiar yell as Victory swooped in front of Yuuri, grabbing the charged electrical cords, and throwing them onto the ground as if his body hadn’t just come into contact with thousands of kilovolts. “I’m supposed to be getting a date today, ma’am!” 

 

_ Thank god you got here on time _ , Yuuri thought dazedly. His hangover was coming back to him with an even bigger force this time round after his sudden wave of exhaustion. 

 

It didn’t take Victory long to tie up Electri, leaving her for the local authorities to apprehend. Yuuri was still stranded on the edge of the metal structure. He barely had enough focus left to keep himself holding on, so figuring out a safe way down to the ground was not an option. He saw Victory swooping in and braced himself for a telling-off again, but instead the other superhero just grabbed him, carrying Yuuri bridal style onto a nearby rooftop, where he lay him down carefully. 

 

“I have literally never seen anything more beautiful than you in trance mode - but never do that again while running on low energy levels,” Victory said, pushing his damp hair away from his mask. 

 

“What mode?” Yuuri heard himself ask.

 

“You know - like that mental state you get into to beat a villain. I call it trance mode, but even I don’t know what it is,” Victory explained. He sat by Yuuri as he regained his senses, slowly waking up again.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to hate me?” Yuuri spit out, wiping some blood from the corner of his mouth. “Lecture me or something?”

 

Victory cocked his head at an angle, clearly amused. “I mean the bruises, cuts, and headaches you’ll get will probably be lesson enough. But no, I don’t hate you - why would I? I’d rather help out the new hero on the block than hate him.”

 

“Right,” Yuuri ducked his head - so he didn’t remember. His would-be train of thought was cut off by Victory.

 

“So… would you be up for that, then? Your superhero coach?” Victory joked, smirking lightly.

 

Yuuri paused, taking in Viktor’s carefree smile and casual attitude. No way was he  _ actually _ being serious... was he? “A… a superhero - a superhero coa-”

 

“I’m being a hundred and ten percent serious here,” Victory assured him, as if sensing his uneasiness. “You thought I hated you for whatever reason, and I’m here to change that.”

 

_ Well _ , Yuuri thought.  _ You’re making it  _ very _ hard to hate you. _

 

And because a) Yuuri was once a fanboy, no need to deny it; b) he could actually use some help with the superhero thing; and c) he could blame his impulsive decisions on being  tired and hungover and hungry; Yuuri agreed.

 

“This is perfect!” Victory clasped his hands together. “I would make sure you get home safe, but secret identities and all. Any place you want me to drop you off?”

 

And so, that day, Yuuri staggered home by way of the fire escape to avoid being seen, having defeated a villain while dealing with a dreadful hangover, and was now under the tutelage of Victory himself. Things were not going the way he had wanted them to… but he couldn’t say that he was disappointed with the way they’d turned out, either.

 

* * *

 

“Hey there, Yuuri!” Viktor greeted him cheerfully as Yuuri finished handing another customer their change. 

 

“Hey, Viktor,” Yuuri smiled softly. Exhaustion could do wonders for having to face your new work crush, especially if you’d only slept six hours before fighting for your life and were still feeling under the weather due to heavy drinking the night before.

 

His life felt like a joke. 

 

He still felt Viktor’s casual touches acutely, but this time, Yuuri’s tired mind was too far gone to let his anxiety flare up again. Viktor’s advances today seemed to be…much more forward than yesterday - if that was even possible. In some instances, Yuuri even felt himself flirt back with Viktor, although it didn’t seem to surprise the other man. 

 

_ I’m on your side, so just shut up _ , his sleep-deprived mind said, shoving away the anxiety that was screaming about thinking before acting. 

 

Fortunately he’d only needed to come in from 2 o’clock that day as Yuuko had taken the morning shift - her daughters were in school then and she could handle the caf é well enough on her own. The agonizing hours spent in close proximity with Viktor meant he had more than too much time to think over what had happened hours earlier.  Yuuri was used to spending his afternoons in the caf é daydreaming, letting his mind wander, and now, of all times, he had more than enough to think about. 

 

What exactly was his relationship to Victory now? He had called himself Eros’ coach, but surely they wouldn’t fall into a scholarly camaraderie? A simple friendship would have been enough to satisfy Yuuri, perhaps with a couple of apologies on Victory’s part thrown in. Also, what was up with his sudden obsession with Victory? Sure, he’d liked him when he was young, but now Victory was popping up far too often on his mind.

 

“Yuuri?” Viktor snapped him out of his funk. “Hey, I’ll close up tonight, you go home and rest. You seemed…distracted today.”

 

Had he really been that obvious? Yuuri certainly felt like he was just going through the motions, sheer will holding him upright on his feet, but it felt like Viktor had been reading his mind. “Thank you, Viktor.”

 

Yuuri turned to grab his bag and leave through the back staff entrance, but Viktor took his arm. 

 

“Wait… I,” he swallowed, as if nervous. “Do you want to get lunch? Tomorrow before our shift? I would’ve asked you out to dinner tonight, but you seem very tired.”

 

“I… Yes of course, I’d love to,” Yuuri answered quickly, before he could chicken out. What was bringing all of this on? Even in his sleep-deprived state, Yuuri couldn’t help but be shocked at the sudden forwardness. 

 

“Great!” Viktor smiled so wide it nearly hurt Yuuri how joyful his expression looked. “The Italian place down the street, 12.30 PM?” 

 

Walking out of the caf é felt like walking on cloud nine. He had a date with Viktor.  _ He had a date with Viktor.  _

 

And he had thought his life was crazy earlier this morning. God, what would his  well-rested self say?

 

As soon as he got home, Yuuri face planted onto his bed, only bothering to set an alarm for the next day. He was done thinking and trying to nitpick everyone else’s actions. He was too tired.

 

And even if before he fell asleep he saw the wrong pair of ice blue eyes flash in his mind’s eye - well. That didn’t mean much at all did it?

  
_ (It did.) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading this and if you read the first ch before i posted the second one then thank you!! for hanging onto this story!! (you're probably non existent let's just move on)  
> ooooh things are getting intense up in here i wonder where i'll take the story ;))))  
> BUT: the biggest most massive shoutout to my beta hopefullyanauthor on ao3 and where-his-towel-is on tumblr ELLEN IF YOU SEE THIS YOU ARE GREAT AND AN AMAZING BETA WHO PULLED MY FIC OUT OF THE DUMPSTER FIRE WHERE IT SAT I OWE YOU EVERYTHING <33  
> check their stuff out!!!!!  
> stay cute, my invisible readers xx

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!! this is my first time posting in the yoi fandom and i hope my fic doesn't get mowed over by the others being posted atm ;D
> 
> firstly: shoutout to my absolutely amazing beta, @where-his-towel-is on tumblr and @hopefullyanauthor on ao3 honestly this fic wouldn't be half as good as it is now without her <33
> 
> i was pretty inspired by the miraculous ladybug and incredibles universes and superhero AUs are my only weakness so this was born!! for explanation: yuuri's power sort of revolves around his dance, and he can manipulate objects using his body, while viktor does the whole superman thing
> 
> drop by my tumblr @miraculous-katsukii at anytime for a chat!! i'm super open to new friends!!


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